


When hope was lost

by ChristyLN



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 13:03:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4061053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristyLN/pseuds/ChristyLN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. After being hurt badly while being on the battlefield, Luciano finally realises some things about himself and what he has done with his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	When hope was lost

Luciano looked up as the sound of a bomb exploding nearby caught his attention. Looking out of the window, in the distance he saw some of his own soldiers being thrown into the air by the shock wave and burned to dead before they even landed on the ground. The sight did not make the Italian change his serious and concentrated facial expression for even the shortest second. To be honest he did not care about the life of the single soldier, no Luciano only focused on the big picture. However, the big picture did not look too good either. Italy had been in war for months now, and for every day that passed by, the troops became more and more exhausted or simple too injured to fight. Luciano felt like he had tried everything: New strategies, better weapons, more soldiers, but nothing helped. He had not slept for days, and the signs of that was clearly starting to show, making him even more short tempered and stressed than usual, and he let his anger out on anyone who dared to go in his way or disturb his thoughts. Even the generals, who usually felt like they were closest to the Italian due to their status, had become too nervous to try and talk some sense into his head, because they were afraid they would push the wrong buttons. The only one who absolutely did not care about this at all was his brother, Flavio.  
  
“Don’t you think you should take a break now, fratellino? You look like something the cat dragged in,” the blonde Italian said, as he tried to get eye contact with his younger brother.   
  
The two of them were standing on each side of a big wooden table, where a map of the territory had been placed on. This was the map that Luciano had used night after night staring at, trying to figure out how to attack. That was the only thing Flavio was 100% sure of these days. If his brother was not out fighting, he would be able to find him here.  
  
“Luci, are you even listening to me?” Impatiently Flavio took a few steps closer to his brother. The other hadn’t even as much as looked at the blonde since he entered the room.  
  
After some minutes of silence, the younger brother finally looked up at him. When Flavio said that he looked like something the cat dragged in, he had not been joking. Luciano had dark bags under his eyes, his reddish-brown hair was nothing but a mess, and Flavio was pretty sure that those stains on the other’s military uniform was dried blood.  
  
“I don’t know if you have failed to notice...” Luciano started, his voice was dripping with sarcasm. “But we are in the middle of a fucking war!”  
  
“Oh Luci, your humor is as funny as ever,” Flavio answered just as sarcastic, rolling his eyes as he did so. “But I’m serious, you need to relax. At least for a little while, please,” he voice softened and the glance he was now sending Luciano was worried.   
  
“I don’t have time for relaxing. It is either work or die, fratello,” Luciano answered with a growl, as he looked back down on the map again, trying to figure out how to organize the next attack.   
  
Flavio sighed deeply, feeling defeated. “Fine…but with that attitude you will end up dying from preparing for the war and not even from the war itself,” he said before turning around on his heels, leaving the room without looking back.  
  
When he had gotten outside, the blonde Italian leaned up against the house wall, his head in his hands. He wished that he for once in his life could get through to his stubborn younger brother. He was really truly worried for Luciano’s health, even though he never said it directly. He simply could not do that, knowing that his brother would never get it. Flavio had to pack his worry for Luciano in and show it through either sarcasm, dark humor or talk about their country’s future. These were the only things the younger understood, and Flavio had come to accept that over the years. However, that did not stop him from wishing that he could just tell the other that he was worried for him, and then be sure that he understood. That he would actually care. Flavio sighed again as he slowly pushed himself away from the wall and looked back at the building that – in his eyes – had become his brother’s prison. However, he knew that Luciano would never actually really care about stuff like other people’s worries. He simply was not able to.   
  
  
The next couple of days went by quickly and before Flavio knew it, he suddenly found himself on the battlefield, this time in a fight that – if it ended like his brother had planned – could turn the whole war around to Italy’s advance. Flavio knew that this was important, and he was going to do everything he could to help his soldiers and his brother to win.   
  
He dried some sweat of his forehead, as he loaded his rifle one more time before taking aim. Flavio was placed behind most of the other soldiers in a place higher up where it, of course, was easier for him to get a good aim. Since his strongest skill was sniping and not close combat fighting like his brother, it was most tactic for him to be up there, together with only a handful of the best Italian snipers Luciano had been able to find. However, the blonde’s skills were still far better than any of those other soldiers.  
  
“Nice shot.” One of the soldiers commented after Flavio had hit the target he was aiming for perfectly. He send the soldier a short smile as to say ‘thanks’, but it quickly faded as he looked down on the battlefield again. It was not exactly because he enjoyed having to kill those men, even though it was just soldiers from another country. It still gave him a bad taste in his mouth just to think about it. This here was where he was most different from his brother.   
As the thought of his brother crossed his mind, Flavio quickly looked after him, trying to spot him between the thousands of soldiers fighting each other. He was lucky. It did not take him more than a couple of minutes to notice the characteristic hat that Luciano for some reason always wore when Italy was at war. He followed him with his eyes for some time, making sure that he did not get hurt. Suddenly Flavio noticed an enemy coming towards his brother from behind. It did not look like Luciano had seen him coming. Flavio quickly took aim and hit the enemy in the head, before he got the chance to hurt his brother.  
“You are welcome,” he mumbled under his breath.   
  
  
Luciano turned around just in time to see an enemy fall down dead not even a meter away from him. He looked at the man, and quickly noticed the bleeding hole in his head. His glance then moved upwards, up to the place where he knew the snipers had been placed.   
“You actually can be a little useful, huh, fratello,” he said to himself as a smirk went over his thin lips.   
  
He quickly spun around as he from the corner of his eye had seen another enemy coming towards him. With a speed that could outmatch any human’s he attacked the soldier directly from the front and let his silver knife go through the man’s skin and flesh. When he could hear the man’s breathing stop Luciano kicked him away from him, chuckling darkling as he went towards the next enemy, still holding the now blood-covered knife in a firm grip. This here was his element. The place where he truly felt most at home. He was perfectly aware how serious all this was, but the moments were he was on the battlefield, it all became some kind of twisted game for him. A game he could not stop playing, and which he would not quit until he had won it.  
  
Luciano continued fighting and had soon lost count of the enemies, he had taken down. Not that he really cared about counting anyways, the only important thing was that they won this battle no matter what. However, after some time, the younger Italian made one critical error. He unterminated the enemy soldiers’ skills. This led to one the soldiers sending a bullet right into his right leg. Luciano growled loudly from the sudden pain and had to slow down a bit to quickly examine his now bloody leg. This was the chance his enemies had been waiting for. Due to the younger Italian’s speed and skills to make quick-kills, the snipers had had a lot of problems actually hitting him. However, now they used the short moment Luciano’s mind was focused on something else to fire right at him. The Italian first noticed this when some of the first bullets flew through his uniform and right into his flesh. Of course, they did not kill him, he was a nation after all and couldn’t be killed by a shot to the chest like regular people. However, he could still feel the pain, and the wound in his chest quickly started to bleed heavily, making him dizzy. Stubborn as always he tried to continue fighting like nothing was wrong, but soon ended up collapsing on the ground.  
  
  
His older brother had first spotted what happened after it was too late. He saw how Luciano’s wound opened and how he fell to the ground. Flavio knew that he had to get his brother to a safe place before things got worse. He quickly got up and ran down to the first soldiers he was able to find.   
  
“I need someone to get my brother back here now!” He yelled, leaving no doubt about how serious he was.   
  
The soldiers quickly did what they were told, and luckily they managed to get back with his younger brother, all of them still in one pieces. However, it was not all who was so happy about this whole situation.   
  
“What the hell are you doing, idiots!? Put me down or I will—“. Luciano’s protests were cut off when he suddenly saw his brother. “Why have you brought me back here!?” He snapped at the older Italian.  
  
“Isn’t that fucking obvious!?” Flavio yelled back, clearly frustrated over the fact that his brother apparently couldn’t see what state he was in. “You aren’t able to fight like that, you are too wounded!”  
  
“I’m fine!” Luciano yelled back, coughing up a bit of blood as he did so. This made his brother raise an eyebrow.  
  
“Please Luci, just relax a bit. I will take over the army for now,” his voice had softened, as he tried to make his brother see some sense. Finally, Luciano nodded reluctantly. “Take him up to the top of the hill,” Flavio ordered the soldiers, and his looked after them as the quickly disappeared out of sight.  
  
Flavio knew that he had to pull himself together. No matter how much he disliked war in general, he had to do this for their country and for his brother.       
  
  
Lying in the grass on top of the hill, Luciano had perfect view over the battlefield below him. He saw how his older brother took control over his army, and coordinated them by yelling instructions from the top of his lungs. The younger Italian was not completely sure what the other one was yelling, but apparently, it was just the right things. His soldiers went into the battle and fought like Luciano had never seem them fight before. He was almost proud of the humans he usually just looked down upon. However, his eyes soon found his brother again and he chuckled a bit over the fact that the blonde was almost doing a better job than he was at being the leader figure. The chuckle however was quickly replaced by a weak coughing, and it ended up with Luciano just lying on his back, looking up in the sky. This gave his blurred mind some peace to think. Think about everything. His life. What he had done. And what he had failed doing. He had always looked at himself as ‘the best’, but was that really the full truth? The Italian wasn’t even sure anymore. Slowly he lifted the hand he had been holding over the bleeding wound in his chest. He watched as his own blood ran down his leather glove and fell back down on his military uniform. Was he really all that needed? It had been proven over and over again how he could not even handle the simplest of things. One war after the other all lost. His terrible failures would forever be written over the sides of the history of Italy. Wasn’t it better to stop before he made it all worse? He smiled slightly as a single tear ran down his cheek, however it did not seem like he even noticed this at all. It wasn’t like the Italian people would lose anything. They would still have his brother. The brother he always had said was worth less than himself, even though he knew in his heart that it was opposite. He had just always ignored those thoughts. However, at this moment he embraced them. They gave him peace. The younger Italian closed his eyes, blocking out all sounds of yelling and gunshots as he did so. He had finally lost all hope in himself, and slowly gave into the pain in his chest. The world simply did not need him anymore, and with those thoughts the Italian’s mind faded to black.  
  
  
Flavio looked around, the sweat dripping from his forehead. It seemed like his soldiers were finally starting to take control over the battle. He yelled to them again, and they answered with a roar as they all attacked the enemies with all they had in them. Flavio himself also fought like never before, hoping this battle would come to its end soon, so he could check on his brother. The older Italian’s wish was soon granted, as the rest of the enemy soldiers retreated, leaving the Italians with the control over this territory. This left the Italians to finally be able to rest, and help each other with their wounds. Flavio, however, hurried back to the top of the hill, where his brother had been placed so he could rest. When he got up there, the sight that met him, made the blonde stiffen. His brother was covered in blood. It was not only the stains his wounds had left on his uniform, when the soldiers had brought him up here. No, at this point it was hard to identify that the other’s uniform actually had been brown at some point. However, what shocked Flavio even more was the simple fact that his brother had closed his eyes. Had his wounds been so bad that he had fainted? Slowly he walked over and kneeled down beside his younger brother. “Luci?” He said quietly, his voice trembling a bit. The blonde knew that it wasn’t unusual for nations to faint after an incredibly hard battle, but he still did not like it at all. “L-Luci?” He asked again, as he slowly moved his hand over to gentle grab the other’s shoulder. The second he did so, Flavio suddenly felt something. He could not exactly put words on it, but something inside him had definitely changed. Then he realized it. He could suddenly feel the people from the northern part of his country much clearer than before. “No…” he whispered, as he moved a bit closer to Luciano. The older Italian was not suppose to feel all the people like he did now. He was only the southern part. He was…   
  
“Luci p-please wake up”. Hot tears were streaming down his face, as he carefully moved his brother’s body so he was now lying on his lap with Flavio’s arms around him. “L-Luci, please don’t give up…the people need you…I n-need you”. He tried to keep his voice down, but he couldn’t help but stutter, as his hand slowly ran through his brother’s hair. “Don’t l-leave me alone,” he whispered, before he buried his head in his brother’s shoulder, crying his own heart out. As memories of his brother started to run through his mind, Flavio quietly repeated what he yelled to the soldiers before, even though his voice broke several time while doing so.  
  
_“Fight for our country. Fight for your honor. Fight… for my brother”._

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a general headcanon I have: There is only two ways a country can truly 'die'. If the people lose faith in the country or if the country loses faith in themselves.


End file.
